Red
by elleyouoh
Summary: Instead of Skye leaving a message that said Ward is Hydra, the team return to see that Grant has left them one that says 'May took Skye'.


'May took Skye.'

The words sent chills down Fitz's spine as did Jemma's scream that echoed through the base right after.

Within minutes they had congregated in the kitchen area, surrounding Keonig's dead body. He had been shot once straight in the head; it was easy enough to see.

They had returned from Portland less than an hour ago to find their bus missing and the base deserted.

Initially, they'd attempted to find any security footage they could to explain what had occurred during their absence, but all of the internal feeds had been wiped even those from the hanger's landing assist system.

An entry log had Ward leaving the base through the front door a couple hours before they had returned, and they'd been baffled at the time, but after scouring the base and happening upon the message he had left and Keonig lying in a pool of his own blood, they knew.

He sees red, the anger and rage is clouding his thoughts as they contemplate how to proceed.

* * *

'Sir, she's not giving anything up, it would be easier just to shoot her dead.'

Ward and Garrett were standing together, monitoring the feed from the interrogation room on their temporary base.

Two of Hydra's best interrogators were sitting opposite the infamous Melinda May who had been chained up against the wall.

They had been at it for several days now, burning, whipping, shocking; and still she continued to say nothing.

'We don't need information, I'm just enjoying the show. There's plenty of time to shoot her later.'

The smile upon Garrett's face was sinister.

'Bring the girl, Skye, in here. Let's see if she's willing to unlock the drive for us now.'

Ward nodded and hastily exited, as Garrett turned on the comms to the interrogation room.

'Boys, increase the voltage.'

* * *

May clamped her mouth shut as another jolt of electricity went through her; she would not scream out in pain and give them the satisfaction.

The man on the right pressed another button, sending out another shock wave, as the man on the left roughly cut away another portion of her sleeve, drawing blood from her arm as he did so, and held a flame to the newly exposed area of skin.

Garrett, clearly unimpressed, issued another order to his men.

'Increase the voltage.'

The next shock was accompanied by a stab in the stomach area, done expertly to avoid any vital organs, and a scream echoed through the building.

It however, did not come from the woman being mercilessly tortured, but from Skye, who Ward had at that moment, dragged into the room.

'What are you doing to her?!'

There were tears streaming down Skye's face as she struggled against Ward, her expression one of horror and fear.

'Oh that? Just a little show. Now that you've seen it, how about unlocking that hard drive for us?'

Skye was completely torn on the matter; that drive had been encrypted for a reason; if that information were to end up in the hands of Hydra, they were done for. But she couldn't just stand there and watch them torture May like that.

'Tick, tick, tick.'

Garrett tapped on the bench beside him as he said that, and the two interrogators repeated their actions, this time eliciting a loud groan of pain from their victim.

'Skye, just unlock the drive for us and all that will end,' Ward says, still holding both of Skye's arms behind her, restraining her.

She takes a look at the screen again, and then averts her gaze, unable to continue watching the torture.

'I'll do it, I'll do it. Just please, stop hurting her.'

Garrett's face lit up in another eerie smile as he nodded to Ward and Skye was escorted from the room.

As the door shut behind the pair, Garrett turned back towards the screen.

'Sir, she's passed out from the shocking.'

Both his men were looking up through the camera at him, their prisoner slumped against her chains.

'Wait till she's awake; I want those screams to be recorded for Coulson's viewing when we dump her body at his feet.'

* * *

She wasn't known as the Cavalry for nothing.

Melinda continued to look left and right as she hurriedly tended to her wounds. She ignored those that were not life-threatening, quickly stitching up the few deep cuts they had caused when they'd stabbed her during the interrogation.

She hadn't been this exhausted in a long time.

Those guards were a piece of cake, but that goddamn Hydra base was like a labyrinth.

She chuckled darkly to herself as she recalled how surprised she had been when she exited the base to find herself in a busy city environment. Fools.

Once she was sure the stitches would hold, she hot-wired the nearest car and attempted to make her way, from memory back to Providence.

* * *

'Sir, it's May, she's outside the front entrance. How should we proceed?'

Phil motioned for Simmons to pull up the security feed, and indeed, staring back at him from the screen was Melinda May.

He felt an almost uncontrollable rage boiling up inside him as his thoughts drifted to Skye and Ward, who were both still missing.

'She's alone sir; the scanner detects no weaponry.'

He almost scoffed at her for those words.

'If she needs a weapon, she'll take it. Let her in'

At his signal, Trip loaded up his rifle and followed Phil to the door. They bolted it shut as Phil exited, and Trip had his rifle pointed towards the door, ready to shoot if necessary.

There was one more turn in the hallway before they would reach the long corridor that lead to the front entrance, and Phil took a breath as he turned the corner to meet the woman who had betrayed them.

The rage within in him grew as he saw her heading down the hall towards him, he almost couldn't see clearly.

Had he been able to, he would have noticed the slight limp in her step and the way she favoured her left side.

When they were within an arms length of one another, she opened her mouth to speak, but silenced her as he threw a punch directly at her.

May being May had no issue blocking it, but Phil was relentless.

'Phil, what are you doing,' she managed to huff out as she countered each of his attacks.

He gave her an incredulous look as he swung his arm out again.

'You know what you did, don't come in here pretending to be innocent. You've been lying to me this whole time.'

He has her in a choke hold now, but she swings her legs backwards and breaks free.

'I didn't do anything I swear.'

She blocks another attack of his, but has to take a step to steady herself as her stance falters.

He doesn't notice.

He doesn't notice that her breathing is becoming more and more laborious.

He doesn't notice the fear etched into her features, an emotion that would almost never be seen upon the face of Melinda May.

He doesn't notice that his phone begins to ring as they continue to fight.

She falters in her step again as she ducks to avoid his attack, and he takes the opportunity to send her flying into the wall with a single kick.

He readies himself, preparing for her to jump up and their fight to continue.

But she isn't moving.

'I didn't fall for that back at the Academy, I won't fall for it now,' he calls as he rocks back and forth on his heels.

Still nothing.

Slowly, he relaxes and rises from his previously alert position.

'May?'

No response.

He cautiously approaches her, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he swears he can hear footsteps echoing throughout the base.

'May?'

He's about to take another step when he sees it, the blood that is seeping out from her body, forming a pool beneath her.

The blood drains from his face as he watches hers drain from her body.

His anger is forgotten; all that he sees now is his best friend lying there unmoving. He's kneeling in her blood, his hands pressed against her abdomen trying to stem the bleeding as his heart pounds in his chest.

Something was not right. The timeline was wrong; her actions didn't match those she had been accused of.

His right hand is clamped down against her midsection, as he shakily raises his left, drenched in her blood to feel for a pulse.

'Sir, May isn't Hydra.'

There's shouts from the end of the hall and footsteps thundering towards him but he can't focus on anything right now.

All he sees is red.

* * *

He's sitting at her side; his hands and clothes are still covered with her blood.

According to Simmons, she hadn't really lost all that much.

Simmons, bless her soul, had learnt from previous mistakes and managed to stay calm through the entire process.

She and Fitz had hurriedly tended to May whilst Trip attempted to restrain Phil, who was in hysterics after what had happened.

They'd stemmed her bleeding, and stitched up her wounds before tending to the other more superficial injuries.

Phil knew that Garrett had sent them a footage of May being tortured, but Fitz had already erased before he could ask to see it.

'It was terrible sir, they did terrible things to her,' was all he said about that matter.

But here Phil was, face to face with the scars that had been left behind.

Fitzsimmons had bandaged her up pretty well, but he could see the burns and cuts that marked her arms, and the bruises that littered her skin.

He felt so much guilt knowing he had inflicted many of those himself as they fought.

Fitzsimmons assured him that the physical damage would heal in time, but still he refused to leave her side.

* * *

It's been seventeen days.

Fury and Hill had shown up, and Skye was alive and Ward was locked up in a tiny cell at their new base.

Oh, and Garrett was dead.

But still, May had not awoken.

She had begun to heal, the bruises were fading and the burns were not as obvious as before.

Phil was seated at her bed side, carefully cradling her hand, apologizing again.

He's telling her stories about the Academy, had she been awake she would have rolled her eyes at him but she wasn't.

He's smiling at the memory of one of the pranks she had pulled on him when the hand he is holding twitches slightly.

Heart in his throat, he turns to her face and finds that her eyes are open, and she's looking at him, terrified.

Her hand is trembling in his, but she doesn't have the strength to pull away.

'Melinda,' he whispers, and her eyes widen.

He moves his right hand up to cradle her face, and she flinches, and he realises with horror that she's afraid that he'll hit her.

'Im so sorry,' he says quietly, his hand settled by her face as he softly strokes her cheek.

'It's all my fault. I should have trusted you,' his voice is breaking as he speaks, and he doesn't realise that he's begun crying until she shakily reaches up and touches his face, her fingers tracing the tracks that his tears had created.

She tries to say something, but coughs and splutters, and he immediately retracts himself and reaches over to the bedside table to pour her a glass of water.

Realising that there was no way he could get her to drink it while lying down, he set the glass down and gently helped her up into a sitting position.

She winces as he helps her rise, and there's a pang in his heart, and he knows his tears are still there even though they're slowing down.

Sitting beside her in the bed, he has an arm wrapped around her shoulders supporting her as she leans against him. He carefully retrieves the glass and holds it to her lips, watching as she takes a few small sips before he replaces it to it's original position.

Her head is resting against his shoulder, he's still got his arm around her, and now he's taken a hold of both of her hands in his.

'I'm sorry.'

It's barely a whisper, and had it not been for their close proximity, he might have missed it, but those two words bring him more pain than he could have ever imagined.

Still supporting her with his arm, he pulls back a little so he can look her in the eye. He leans down and presses their foreheads together, and she blinks rapidly as one of his tears drips onto her eyelashes.

'I love you.'

He figures now may as well be the best time to say it. He's already died once, the chances of it happening again are greater according to Simmons, and she almost died and he doesn't want to waste another moment.

'I love you too.'

Her voice is strained and it sounds like she can barely get the words out, but with the look in her eyes and the small smile on her face, it wouldn't have made a difference had she shouted it from a building top.

He softly rubs his nose against hers and nuzzles her cheek and he can feel her tired smile against his neck as she settles into his arms.

There are so many more apologies left to be said, but they can wait.

The only red he sees now is in his head, the exact shade of Melinda's lipstick on the rare occasion that she wore it.

He decides he'd like to see that in person, on a date.

And he'd raise no objections if he ended up wearing a similar shade at the end of the night.

He presses a kiss to the top of her head and just chuckles to himself as he looks through the window and sees Skye jumping up and down and whooping with excitement.


End file.
